


Shadow Queen

by incrediblyintroverted



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5836690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incrediblyintroverted/pseuds/incrediblyintroverted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A possible future for Aelin and Dorian after the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow Queen

Queen Aelin Ashryver Galathynius sat perched on her throne, and stared unto the ball below. She had once reveled in these balls, which allowed her to lose herself in the music and people. However, balls had become nothing more than a chore for her, a chance for the nobles to posture and fawn, all in attempt to gain favor with her. Balls had also lost their spontaneity, her every move was now scrutinized and analyzed. While her internal monologue may give off the impression of loathing queen hood, this was not the case.

For so long she had been wasting her life, caught in the tragedy her life had become. Her life had been meaningless, fighting for nothing and no one, and filled with idle luxury. She had seen the world, but had no one to see it with. Had experienced the finer things in life, but at a terrible cost. While she still resented Nehemia's premeditated death, Aelin thanked her friend for shaking her out of her stupor. Without Nehemia she would probably have wasted away far from Terrasen’s shores, and the people she left to rot. A familiar voice shook her from thoughts of her fallen friend.

“ Now what’s a beautiful girl doing all alone at a ball.”

She glanced over her shoulder and her infamous eyes met a pair of vibrant sapphire eyes. There were many mysteries surrounding Dorian Havilliard, he was an enigma and his eyes were just a piece of the puzzle. Some days they were the color of a peaceful sky, the next they resembled the roaring sea. They say that the eyes were the windows to one’s soul and this was certainly true of Dorian Havilliard. He was an altruistic man, and because of that people often underestimated him, this was a fatal mistake. He was a kind man, but did not hesitate when striking down his enemies.

“Waiting for someone to ask me to dance of course.” Aelin replied with a teasing lilt in her voice and a bemused smile on her face.

She stared intently at Dorian waiting for his next move in the game they were playing. She belatedly registered that they matched. She was wearing an ornate sea foam dress, which could probably sustain a family for a year. He was wearing a white button down shirt with sea foam designs, cuffs, white trousers, and of course his crown. Dorian was in her humble opinion (and most likely the majority of Erilea) a very handsome man. However, sea foam green was clearly not his color and clashing with his ever-changing blue eyes. This meant that he had bribed her dressmaker in order to figure out what she was wearing. His stylist was probably grinding his teeth so hard she was surprised she could not hear them from here. This was only one step in the game these two royals played. Rebuilding and running a country is hard work, and this game was where most of their amusement came from.

“ Well who am I to deprive a lady from a dance.” Was the coy reply he gave with a challenging smirk.

He offered her hand, but Aelin refused it with a shake of her head. She gracefully rose from her golden throne and walked beside him. She wished she could loop her arm through his on the way to dance floor, but their people would interpret that gesture as a sign of submission from Terrasen. In the deepest most buried parts of her heart sometimes she longed to return to the free life of Celaena Sardothien. Celaena was a free spirit who dictated her life according to her selfish whims. From the corner of her eye she spotted Aedion, her lost cousin who she wouldn’t trade for any amount of freedom. As they glided onto the dance floor she sensed everyone's eyes. She was used to attention, there had never been a point in her life where she wasn’t stared at. She had been a golden princess, a glorious assassin, a charming court lady, and now the charismatic and loving queen.

They had been both been trained in court intricacies before they could walk. Although, Dorian had been brought up at court, they both knew how to dance. Suddenly the music changed, what was once an upbeat tempo transformed into a melancholic slow song. Faster music made it easier to get lost in performing complex moves, but this music allowed her to get lost in her thoughts, and her feelings. Aelin often thought, but she almost never allowed herself to get lost in the depths of her feelings. For feeling was a gateway into action, and rulers must not let emotion cloud their judgment. Dorian touched her arm, and it was reminder of everything she wanted, but could never have. Perhaps if she was a princess she could be his Queen, but she was not a princess. Instead of shooting him a warning glance, something everyone in court would pick up one, she decided to distract him.

“How did you justify this visit to your advisors?” she teasingly asked.

If the sudden break from their silent dance startled him, he didn’t show it. He was the picture of composure, Aelin bitterly thought. He had grown up in a court that thrived in deception and mind games. She had grown up in a court that would bleed the heart right off you if you let it. Both of them had perfected the art of using masks. Sometimes she wondered if she got lost in the haze of who she was, and who she used to be. Aedion and Rowan liked to believe that Celaena wasn’t a part of her. That Celaena's anger and Celaena’s bitterness were part of her old life. And Aelin’s focus, Aelin’s purpose were who she was now, but the truth was she could not be divided into parts, she was a jumbled mass of crumbling masks. Perhaps that’s what started her and Dorian's kinship all that time ago. They sensed that jumbled mess in each other. Once she wondered if her disjointed sense of self was symptom of Celaena, now she knew it was symptom of being royal.

“I told them it was a diplomatic mission, healing wounds and forging new bonds, you know the drill.” he replied dryly to her inquisition.

“You went through all that fuss just to see me?” she teased an amused glint in her eyes.

“And to see the state Terrasen is in, who her allies and enemies are.” this he answered more somberly.

And to see if you have a betrothed

This is what goes unsaid, but Aelin had always been good at reading between the lines. When she was younger she had dreamed of love, a dashing prince that always seemed to resemble Aedion. When she was an assassin she dreamed of glory, and love still, but no longer of princes. She dreamed of someone who would see her darkness and her bleeding heart and accept her for who she was. When she returned from Endovier she put her romantic notions to rest and dreamed of monotony, and contentedness. When she was being forged into a weapon she dreamed of battling her demons and standing up again. And as a revolutionary she dreamed of liberating her people from an oppressive King. Still even after Sam’s death, though she tried to clamp it down, she dreamed of love.

Aelin knew she would not marry for love. She knew she would not wake up and have Dorian beside her. To have his persistent optimism and keen intelligence, he would rule Terrasen well, but they would never accept him as their King. They would think there Queen coerced and wage war to be free of Adrian once again. While the Erilea was freed from the villainous King, they were not free from his taint. People still quaked in fear at the mention of his name. They curled their lips when they spoke of the new King wondering if he would be just like his father, or worse. In the ballroom, during this dance people snuck glares as if to remind him Adarlan would never atone for their sins. She would settle for companionship, but even that was not an option for her.

Rowan was accepted as her guard, her protector, but he would never be accepted as her King. They would see him as an extension of Maeve, the fae Queen. He would be a symbol of what King Orlon was trying to protect his country from long before Adarlan invaded. Aedion of course could have been an option, it had been whispered about and slyly suggested before Adarlan’s takeover. The idea had no merit now, Terrasen greatly admired Aedion, but they did not want a general King. They wanted a Lord, who could charm enemies and allies alike. Terrasen had seen too much of Kings who waged war, they wanted a King who would fight for peace. A King who did not have a blood on his hands, they already had a warrior Queen, they did not want a warrior King. She could not marry Dorian, Rowan, or Aedion, but marry she must. A marriage would stabilize her kingdom and give the people hope of entering a new era, an era of prosperity and peace. Who was Aelin to sacrifice the wellbeing of her country all for her selfish wants and desires. This conversation was leading somewhere dangerous and forbidden, so she changed the subject.

“ How’s Chaol?” she asked.

He knew she was diverting him from what he wanted to know, but he let her, since he too was aware they were treading a dangerous line. She had loved Chaol with everything Celaena had, but not with all of herself. Chaol was like a wound on her soul that had scarred, but had not healed. She did not know if the wound would ever heal, if it would ever not hurt to think of him, or with every glance feel a cocktail of longing, regret, bitterness, anger, and betrayal. Dorian mercifully answered before she went further into the recess’ of her mind.

“ He’s doing great, as I’m sure you’re aware him and Nesryn recently had their second child.” Dorian said this casually, but she could sense the envy in his tone.

Chaol was not royal, and would love whom he chose, he did not have to put his country’s wants before his own.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Dorian asked desperately.

“People will think we’re doing something scandalous.” Aelin answered reminding herself to walk further on this path would only bring her more pain.

“Maybe we should do something scandalous.” Dorian replied and he was only half joking.

With a searing gaze from her, he amended his earlier words.

“What if you show me Terrasen's gardens, I hear they're beautiful at night, with a chaperone of course.” He added knowing she would protest otherwise.

Aelin was strong; she had faced down enemies greater than this world. Had led armies into war, carried burdens no one her age should ever bear, made unimaginable sacrifices, and had endured heartbreak. Sometime she wished she could think only with her head, and cut her heart out of her chest. Perhaps if she had been thinking with her head she would have been able to refuse his offer. However, she knew this was one of the last times she would see Dorian, and the last time she would see Dorian before her wedding. The song ended, and they left the dance floor and curious nobles. She found Lysandra amidst a gaggle of women all laughing outrageously at one of Lysandra’s exploits.

She picked Lysandra to chaperone Dorian and her, because she was the only one who would understand. Rowan would lecture her on politics and responsibilities. Aedion would not be able to see past his hate of Adarlan and all it had taken away from him. Lysandra understood in order to move forward she had to be selfish; that Aelin needed this, Celaena needed this. With a glance at Dorian and Aelin’s retreating figures, Lysandra excused herself. Aelin steadfastly walked forward knowing that if she looked back she would see reason and change her mind. She felt the shock of frigid air, and knew she was free, temporarily released from the chains of court. Dorian looked at her, and she knew he felt it too, the pressure being lifted from his shoulders.

“Where to.” He asked a smile in his voice.

“Everywhere, I want to show you everything.” She replied, happy to share her favorite part of the palace.

And so she did, she showed him the intimidating maze, which she had never dared to enter; afraid of the secrets it held. She showed him the lake, which had frozen over, he suggested skating, and she questioned his sanity. In the vibrant gardens he picked a beautiful flower.

“ A flower, for my flower.” Dorian said with a gallant bow, and placed the flower gently into her hands.

“ A flower for my flower.” Aelin replied dryly and made a move to return the flower, but clutched it close to her chest.

“Is there anywhere else you want to show me?” Dorian asked knowing as a well as she did that this would be one of his last visits.

“Yes, one place.” Aelin sighed as if the sentence pained her.

They began their final trek together, just them, Dorian and Aelin. Lysandra had long since left them knowing they would not notice her absence. The two royals climbed up a hill, and when they reached the top Dorian let amazement show on his face.

“It’s magnificent.” He said with a soft smile down below.

Indeed it was, from the top of the hill one could see the palace and all of Orynth. The hill itself was quite simplistic except for a willow tree. The willow tree was adorned with a hammock, which Dorian concluded meant it was Aelin’s reading spot. The tree was mystical, it seemed as if it was tree meant for keeping, and these young lovers would be just another secret on a long list. The lovers in question were content to simply enjoy the comfortable silence that they rarely had a taste, due to their hectic lives. However as the night drew to a close Aelin spoke knowing that with the rise of the sun would be the rise of a barrier.

“ Have you been reading any good books lately.” She asked knowing that a discussion of literature never failed to spark a conversation.

“ As a matter of fact I have.” Dorian replied.

“ Really, what’s it about?” She eagerly asked always in need of a good book recommendation.

“ It’s a tale of forbidden love, drama, and sacrifice. There is girl and she falls in love with a boy, of course that’s how it always starts. The problem is that their family is mortal enemies, and they are the heirs. So he comes to her window, and they flirt knowing, nothing, but heartbreak would follow. However, their love for each other overcame all reason and logic, and they eloped.” Dorian stated his voice wavering despite his best efforts.

“ What happened next?” Aelin asked a breathless note in her voice, both wanting to know and the ending, and knowing there was not going to be a happily ever after.

“ They both died. She had faked her death in order to fool her parents and nurse, and he found her dead. In his heartbreak knowing he would never love another, he killed himself. When she woke up horrified at what she had done, and knowing that she to what never love another, she killed herself.” Dorian whispered a mournful tone in his voice as if mourning the fictional lovers.

“That’s such a sad story, why would you choose to read such a dreadful thing.” Aelin questioned hoping Dorian would not notice the tears running down her cheeks.

“ To remind myself of all that I’m missing, and why I can never have it.” Dorian said, and to Aelin’s chagrin wiped her tears on his sea foam shirt.

Before he could lose his courage, he kissed her. The kiss was not heated, but passionate still, it was a kiss full of longing, and regret. This kiss was full of finality and tasted like goodbye. When they finally broke apart Dorian was surprised to feel his own wet cheeks. Aelin wiped his face on her sea foam dress.

As they walked down the hill they talked of mundane things, which was courting Lysandra, and Manon’s refusal to admit her feelings for Elide.

“Suppose they’ve been together all this time, and just neglected to tell us.” Dorian questioned pondering the strangeness of Manon.

Aelin nodded, though she was not paying attention to his response, she was paying attention to him. Memorizing all his crevices, his harsh and soft lines, and his stormy eyes. She was drinking him in, storing this image for when she needed strength. Perhaps he sensed she was not paying attention to him, he shoot her an indignant glance. Aelin spurred by the darkness of the night asked him a reckless question.

“Do you ever dream of when you were a lackadaisical prince and I a frivolous assassin.’’

“ That’s the problem isn’t it, you were always a Queen, and I was always meant to be King.”


End file.
